Glass
by gummyworms
Summary: Shattered glass. Broken, yet still fragile. Inanimate, lifeless, waiting to be swept away. Anna. Until she is attempted repair by a certain orange headphone wearing boy, of course. [formallyTakingLife]
1. Sunken

**Title: **Glass

(Originally "Taking Life")

**Author: **gummyworms

**Summary: **Shattered glass. Broken, yet still fragile. Inanimate, lifeless, waiting to be swept away. Anna. Until she is attempted repair by a certain orange headphone wearing boy, of course.

**Genre: **Romance/Angst

**Rating: **T

Special thanks to pendulumxswing for being my beta-reader. Weeee.

**Chapter One.**

My day begins as I become aware of the screaming of my mother towards my father. I lift an eyelid slowly as I lay sprawled on the dirty carpet under a thin sheet of faded black blanket. Unintelligible shouts erupt from the living room. Over the years, I have learned to ignore it and make it my alarm clock.

I slowly stand up, stretching my thin arms. Tousled golden locks fall into my eyes, and I shake them away irritably. As I walk out of the small, pathetic excuse for a bedroom, my eye catches the old mirror with the unadorned black frame hanging from the wall. In the scratched glass I can see the tired face of a fifteen-year-old girl. Disheveled hair that looked almost exactly like dirty farm straw hung around her face, spilling messily to her gaunt shoulders. Dark bags were visible under her empty mud-colored eyes, standing out on her pale, weary face. However, I was the only one who could truly see into this creature that held an emotionless expression. Through my eyes and mine alone, I could see what a bitch she was. I could see she was violent and short-tempered, ugly and pessimistic. I could see she was whiny and annoyingly overly sensitive. I could see how despondent and depressed she was; how she felt pointless and miserable. I could see that she was a victim of self-mutilation, and how she was on the brink of suicide.

I could see everything.

And I hated all of it.

I turn away, disgusted at the sight of myself. Why did I bother keeping this mirror up for all these weeks? I walk to the mirror and throw it to the ground. It shatters, leaving many small shards in the gray carpet. I kneel down and pick up a shard, staring detachedly at it for a while. Then, I hold it to my thin, ashen arm. I pick a spot near my elbow and slowly slice through. My skin tears, revealing a line of crimson, adding to the vast collection of scabs, scars, and cuts on my skin. I smile slightly at the sight of my blood beginning to well up around the cut. I hated everything about myself. I loved that I could so easily punish it.

After several moments of watching myself bleed, I stand and walk to the bathroom. There I began to somewhat unconsciously brush my teeth and comb my hair. Over time I have learned how to do these tedious tasks with my mind wandering to nowhere, leaving my body to do the usual habit. In the mirror, the girl looked completely impassive.

When I finish, I walk back to my room and begin to dress into my school uniform. I glance at the clock. School begins in twenty minutes. As I undress, copious scars and cuts as well as large bruises are revealed all over my scrawny body. I wonder why I even get up in the morning.

I go to the corner of my room and pick up my black brief case. It is light with no homework. I was going to die anyway, why bother? I did not want any of this school crap. I always feel too dejected to do the homework anyway.

The broken glass still lay scattered amongst the dirty carpet. I leave it there.

I walk into the living room. The loud arguments have died down and my parents have retreated to their own little corners of the house to retaliate, but the battle scene is obviously left behind. Broken glass, spilled milk, and a small amount of blood are sitting in the living room, expecting to be cleaned up. I snort in disapproval and walk out of the house to school.

&&&

I go to school because I have nothing better to do. I tried ditching a couple of times, but people would look at me and ask, "Why aren't you in school?" I do not respond, and they would call the authorities to pick me up. Ironically, the only time people ever pay attention to me is when they suspect I've broken a rule of some sort. Hah. I live in a damned city, and people are everywhere. I very well could not stay at home, where my bitchy parents took shelter.

People slowly draw back or flash me weary or hostile glances as I pass by. I walk emotionlessly, like a doll, like a person without a soul. Like a living dead person.

In homeroom, I take my assigned seat. Unfortunately, I was given the seat next to one of the nosiest little bastards in the school, Boroboro. The hyperactive Ainu dashes in a few moments after I am seated, a stupid grin on his face as he sits down. I hate him. I wish he would shut up. I wish I could rip his annoying mouth off of his stupid happy face. I wish he would die. I wish everyone would die.

However, my wishes could not be fulfilled. There were too many witnesses about, and my stupid soul was too much of a coward to commit murder. I could hurt people, yes, but I could not muster enough willpower to kill them. Instead, I give Boroboro a death glare. He shuts up with a start, quivering under my fierce glower. I look away, satisfied with his silence.

I start detaching myself from reality again, just like I did when I was brushing my teeth and combing my hair. My mind becomes completely empty, and I am once more the living dead girl.

"What is your problem?"

I snap back to reality in reaction to my quick reflexes. I do not turn my head. Instead, my eyes travel to the source of the noise, a girl with short chestnut-brown hair and hands on her hips beside my desk. She is frowning angrily at me. I say nothing.

"Well?" she demanded. "Horohoro never did anything with intentions to annoy you. Why do you have to be so mean?"

A friend of the moron.

"Drop dead," I mutter quietly. Despite my low voice, a sharp icy tone was ensured.

The girl flinched.

"You're such a bitch," she whines in her annoyingly loud voice.

Shut up.

Just be quiet.

Just die.

"Why do you think you're above everyone else!"

On the outside, I do not respond. On the inside, I am shaking with humiliation. Over the years, I have learned to not show my extreme sensitivity, but not to destroy it. My heart was lurching miserably. Inner Anna was clutching her head in pain and degradation, hating herself more and more for being such a bitch.

"Why do you think you're above everyone else!"

It echoes, echoes, echoes in my mind, making me loathe myself further.

She did not understand. She should go die.

She did not know me at all. She did not know how much I was crying inside, how much her little comments have affected me, how much I did not care and how much I wished everyone, including me, would just die.

I did not think I was above anyone. In fact, I thought I was the lowliest piece of crap on the planet.

Damn her.

Then the homeroom teacher walks in. The girl quickly dashes to her desk. I see Boroboro glance at her gratefully. I wish him a painful, searing death.

I listen to the teacher's blabbering until he takes roll call. When he calls my name, I do not answer. I speak when I feel I need to. As always, his eyes hunt irritably around the classroom for the tired emotionless face after calling my name. He overlooks me a few times, and then spots me, pointing his chewed-up pencil at me and then marking the attendance sheet.

What the hell? What was with that pencil gesture? Was he trying to suggest, "You, you with the farm straw hair, start talking or I'll point at you with my sordid pencil of doom."?

I feel annoyed again, and await the dismissal bell. When it sounds, I walk swiftly out of the classroom to my next class.

School has a monotonous set of events. People recoil, I glare, teachers blather, I detach, I hurt, teachers assign homework, I ignore, I daydream of everyone's death, and I hate.

I hated this. I hated everything. I wanted to die, but I was too much of a coward to do it. The weight of life chained me down.

I detested the people. Some of them are afraid of me. Others hate me. I hate them more. What did they know? What did they care? What was wrong with them? They did not even try to understand. They did not know what I have to go through. My exterior holds an angry and violent image while my inner soul is depressed, despondent, and suicidal. A soul cannot live on this, thus inside I am deteriorating. Inside, I am crumbling.

"Home" also holds a repetitive schedule. It consists of abuse from my parents, holding off homework, a little bit of eating, sleep, abuse from me, hate, and more abuse. I hated my mother and father. I hated when they hurt me because it was out of anger, like I was a tool, not in consideration that I enjoyed pain and the sight of my skin changing from damage. This fact simply ruined it for me, and I feel disgusted when I look at the bruises made in vain. Sometimes I fight back, but they are bigger than me, and they know I will not do anything more. Once I wondered why I did not call the police on them. I hated them, after all. However, I suppose there was some small piece of my heart that was not all black, a piece that would not let me be responsible for having my own flesh and blood arrested.

After I get the day over with, I lay on the dirty carpet on an old pillow under the thin, used blanket. I have a bed, one that is lumpy, aged, and much less comfortable than the floor.

_Why do you think you're above everyone else!_

I shut my eyes tightly and clutch my blanket. I won't cry. I learned to stop crying a long time ago.

As I begin drift to sleep, my only means of escape from this world I call hell on earth, I notice the glass is still there. It is shattered, broken, bloody, and inanimate... Just like me.

A/N: End chapter one. It was more of an introduction.

As author, I have two requests for all of you.

One, review for Forgotten Child, and make pendulumxswing update. Then we'll feel happy.

Two, review for my fanfiction. Comments, criticism, suggestions, critique, etc. all welcome and appreciated. I've had the first three chapters written out for the longest time, but was too lazy to continue. I think perhaps reviews will encourage me to update. Meh.

Of course, both requests are optional, but greatly appreciated. kthnx.


	2. Emerging

**Chapter Two.**

The next day after school I decide not to go home. I do not have money, so I cannot buy food or rent a room elsewhere. I want to go somewhere quiet and secluded, but I am in a city, and unfortunately there are fucking people everywhere. I settle with a place that is quiet, and I walk to the library.

A beautiful silence lingers when I enter. Barely anyone is there. I dart to the farthest table in the back of the library and drop my briefcase beside it. I sit, and then bury my face into my arms, ready to drift into nothingness.

I am successful for about three minutes. I suddenly hear a loud drumming on my table that seemed to be attempting to catch my attention and look up with a cantankerous glare. I see the carefree smiling face of a boy with mud-brown hair pulled back by orange headphones. Orange Headphones Boy's easygoing smile almost made me release all my worries and pains. Almost.

"Hi," he says with a lazy, cheery voice.

I shoot him a threatening glare. "Fuck off," I snarl quietly.

"Aw, don't be that way," he protests playfully. He is unaffected with my angry tone of voice.

That's a first.

"I saw you all alone here, and with your head in your arms like that, I almost thought you were crying," Orange Headphones Boy says. He brings his hand to his chin and closes his eyes as if he was in deep thought.

His voice held concern? Concern for me? That was quite a laugh. He must be trying to play some sort of prank. "But it seems you are not," he finishes.

"Go and die. I do not like company," I murmur.

Orange Headphones Boy pouts and takes a seat close to me anyway.

"You shouldn't be that way. You should be happy!"

I burst into a what-the-hell type laughter. He knows this is not a happy-ha-ha laughter and frowns in bemusement.

"What's so funny?"

My laughter abruptly stops and I glower at him. He blinks. "I do not know the meaning of the word happy," I snap sharply. "I have never been 'happy.' Now go away before I dismember you."

"Everyone deserves to be happy..." the boy responds with a sad smile. Irritated, I ball my hand into a fist and throw it towards his face. To my astonishment, he dodges it as he turns his head. "Must we involve violence?" Orange Headphones Boy continues in his leisurely voice with that fucking stupid smile still pasted to his face. Fuck. I wish he would die in the most slow and painful way possible right now.

I try to hit a second time, with my other fist.

I miss.

Damn. He is pissing me off.

I would love to knock the teeth out of his million-dollar smile, but chances are he would dodge again, and I am not one to waste time.

I stand up, aggravated, and pick up my briefcase, ready to stomp off.

Orange Headphones Boy shocks me for the third time in eleven minutes.

"Wait," he says as he gently grabs my thin wrist.

What the hell?

Why was he so persistent to be with me?

"Please tell me what's wrong. I want to help you. Do you want to talk?"

I do not look at him. I did not want to talk about anything. I wanted to keep everything to myself, and I wanted him to die. I wanted to die.

"I might be wrong, but you strike me as a sad and angry person... I want to understand," Orange Headphones Boy says softly and affably. "Happiness is a necessity of life. It will make you feel better. I want to help you feel better."

This boy... He was different.

"Just go away," I grumble halfheartedly, still avoiding eye contact. Truthfully, I wanted more than anything to tell someone about all my troubles, to complain about everything, to put the weight of it all on them instead of me. Apparently this was leaking into my voice. However, I had my pride, and I was not admitting defeat to his pleading so easily.

...Yet my eyes meekly wander to his face.

Orange Headphones Boy smiles brightly, and lets go of my wrist.

"My name is Yoh. Asakura Yoh."

"That's a stupid name. Who would name their kid 'leaf?'"

Orange Hea- Yoh- laughs.

His laugh is so easygoing and joyful that I was close to feeling relaxed.

But I refused too. Or at least, my pride did.

"What is your name?" Yoh inquires.

I look down again. I do not answer.

A long, awkward silence passes, the seconds slowly dripping off the minutes.

"Well, whatever-your-name, something tells me you don't want to go home."

I remain silent.

"You can stay over at my house, if you like."

This time, my eyes automatically shoot towards him.

"Have you no decency?" I snap.

Truthfully, I would have loved to stay at some place other than my own home. Nevertheless, I was not so stupid as to sleep over at the house of a stranger who could dodge my punches.

Yoh laughs again.

"There are a lot of people there," he assures with a warm smile. "Three girls, four boys, my grandpa and grandma..."

"I hate loud crowded places."

"My house used to be an inn. It's enormous! There's probably a corner of the house that is so far from the other parts of the house that it is absolutely silent."

"I hate people." I remember my abhorrence and glare at him. "I hate you."

He smiles.

He knows I did not mean it.

He knows I did not hate him.

How the hell did he know?

"Listen..." Yoh says tentatively. "A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved. I think you're holding a lot of hurt in you, miss, and I'll be happy to talk to you about it at any time." Confidence is stirring into his voice. "You may not think I'll be able to understand, but I'm sure I will. Trust me." Yoh smiles again.

I feel tears burning at the back of my eyes. I try unsuccessfully to blink them away, and one forces its way out of my right eye and rolls down my cheek.

I was supposed to feel humiliated.

I was supposed to feel hatred.

I was supposed to feel violence.

But with Yoh there... I did not.

A/N: I love you people, you wonderful reviewers. You are all simply _radtastic_.

Anyhow, it's another somewhat long chapter (compared to other fanfics). I also just realized Anna barely uses contractions in the fic so far. I wonder if anyone I know can go twenty-four hours without using contractions in any way. Huh. I should try.

...Once more, thank you muchly, please review for my fanfic and Forgotten Child; all that and things. Suggestions, critique, comments, etc. all welcome and greatly appreciated.


	3. Yoh is a thing

**Chapter Three.**

Yoh isn't human.

He's a fucking stupid, happy, odd, smiley, orange headphone wearing, Goddamned, friendly, uncommon, mystical... thing.

What other reason can there be?

A human can't take notice of a livid wretch, offer her kindness, continue smiling at her no matter what, and unintentionally prove itself different from everyone else the bitch had ever seen, can it?

Can it?

My mind is reeling with bemusement. The library scene replays frequently in my head, but in such a speed that everything is a blur, like my mind is forced onto fast forward. I can remember Yoh had been very kind to... to _me_, for some peculiar reason... He was kind to the point that any thing he did could pierce straight through the angry façade masking my insecure inner self. I can definitely recall his smile; it stands bright and clear in my mind in contrast to everything else. I remember wiping my face. I was crying... Why was I crying? I think it was because of Yoh, but strangely enough, not because he had hurt me. How the hell did he make me cry without hurting me?

What else was there?

God. This is too much for me to handle. Nevertheless it is continuing to linger in my mind; I can do nothing other than comprehend it.

I remember confronting his smile with a glower and declaring quietly with feigned confidence, "My name is Kyouyama Anna." I remember his piercing words when I told him my family didn't fucking care about me after he asked if it was okay for me to stay his place.

"I care about you."

Yoh holds a power. It is not intimidating. I can't figure out what else such a strong power could be, but it isn't intimidating.

So that's it.

I begin to focus on the present. I'm following Yoh, tense and almost march-like. He is sauntering in front of me in that distinct lazy and happy way of his. I stare at the back of his head. It is brown, like rich chocolate, and sticking out in many directions.

Inside I am debating whether or not I should be going to Yoh's house. One half of me is appalled. Crying in front of, giving my name to, and going to the home of a _stranger_? Idiot!

The other half is skeptical. Yoh probably offered more than my damn home, anyway. Besides, it wasn't like I had anything I could lose.

As we near Yoh's house, the crowds of people begin to thin. The sun is setting at last. As it begins to dip behind the horizon, it leaves fragments of color bleeding into the sky. It is cloudy today, and nearest to the sun colors of bloody red and brilliant yellow and orange bounces off the thick clouds. Farther from the sun the clouds had blended into a shade of gloomy grey and purple. The houses and trees in the distance were mere silhouettes.

Our walk holds an unnerving silence the entire way to the house. When we arrive, my eyes travel across the old inn, up and down. It _was_ very big. Yoh stands beside me, smiling his stupid happy smile, and we walk in together.

Inside there are some people brainlessly scurrying around. The air is infused with voices of people. I recognize some from school.

I feel aggravated with all the noise and excitement and scowl.

"Hi, everyone!" Yoh says exultantly as he steps forward. I remain behind, suddenly feeling inapt, being a dark and quiet wretch in the middle of a crowd of happy friends.

A few respond.

"Hello," says a calm Chinese boy with dark violet hair. He's in my science class. I forgot what the hell his name was. He was violent, a quality I suppose I liked, but was noisy when arguing, a quality I did not like. He looks at me and raises an eyebrow. I glare. He is unaffected.

"Welcome back, Yoh-sama," greets a passing girl with cheeks as pink as her rosy hair. I do not recognize her. She looks younger; she most likely goes to a lower-level school. Her bashfulness is already taking a toll on my nerves. She nods respectfully at me, then jumps a bit at my intense scowl.

"Yo, Yoh!" Oh, fuck. It is Boroboro. He is stupidly running around, and immediately stops when he notices me.

"Yo-yo?" Yoh echoes in bewilderment.

I look at Yoh. Mixed feelings stir inside me. On one hand I feel pissed off, hating him for dragging me here, hating him for being so stupid and happy. On the other hand I feel something strange and unfamiliar; something I could not place my finger on, but oddly enough, it was not hate.

"Psst, Yoh, what is _she_ doing here?" he whispers to Yoh hoarsely.

"I can hear every word you are saying, dumb ass," I interrupt in a deadpan voice.

Yoh laughs cheerfully. Boroboro unwinds at Yoh's easiness and laughs a little, too. I am silent.

"This is Anna-san. She's going to be staying the night."

A look of horror crosses Boroboro's face. It almost makes me chuckle.

"I'm going to tell everyone at dinner," Yoh goes on. "Be nice to her."

Boroboro nods and scampers away in the direction of the pink girl.

Yoh turns to me with an amiable smile.

I look at the smile playing on his lips, and wish enviously that I could have that smile, that I could keep that smile, that I could use that smile.

"Shall I show you to your room, Anna-san?" he inquires with a touch of flourish in his voice. I do not reply. He gestures for me to follow, and ambles onward. I trail along slowly.

"You wanted a quiet room, right?" Yoh inquires.

I say nothing. Of course I do, idiot, I had already said that I do not like noise.

"I'll take that as a yes," he answers himself. He pauses, and then looks at me. "Anna-san, please talk. Keeping quiet, keeping everything to yourself... It's all gonna make you more and more sad unless you speak up."

I stare emotionlessly, like a doll. A lifeless doll. He turns away. We walk through various halls and pass many doors. What the hell. I'm going to get fucking lost around here.

Soon enough, we reach a room in the far corner of the inn. Yoh reaches out and slides open the shoji. It makes a sound when it makes contact with the wall and reveals the inside of the room. A large mattress sitting upon a wooden frame the color of milk-mixed coffee lies in the right corner of the room with a smooth white sheet over it that had no visible wrinkles in the fabric. At the foot of the bed is a snow-colored blanket that looks luxuriously thick and warm. The floor is of a dark polished wood material, and a wooden chair and table carved with elaborate designs with colors matching bed frame are resting at the other side of the room. And... Oh, fuck, there is a tall mirror on the wall with the chair. It's the kind you look into to see your whole body, or in my case, your whole pathetic soul. The room is big, bigger than my parents' living room and my room put together, but rather austere sans the ornate designs of the table and chair. Nothing other than the mirror garnished its bland ivory walls.

However, it is the most sumptuous thing ever offered to me. I retain my impassive expression, but I cannot hide the wonderment in my eyes.

Yoh grins at me.

"Anna-san, you may stay here as long as you like. We have spare yukatas, but that's it... If you plan on staying here longer, I can come with you to your home to take some clothes over..." Yoh's grin turns a tad sheepish. "Um."

I stare at him with no reaction.

"Dinner will be in ten minutes, okay? I'll come and get you and show you to the dining room. In the meantime, you can wander around the inn, or stay in your room and get accustomed." Yoh smiles wider.

If his smile gets any bigger, maybe his mouth will fall off.

"I'm going to help Tamao prepare dinner. Do you want to come, or do you want me to stay?" he asks.

I still do not reply.

Yoh looks at me a hard while, his smile fading.

"Anna-san."

A pause.

"Speak. Please speak."

A stare.

"Please, Anna-san. Let me hear your voice."

I look at my grayed socks.

What am I doing here?

Yoh takes a step toward me. I can hear his feet softly touching the wooden floor. I see his hand approaching. The thumb and index finger touches my chin, and lifts my face. I see Yoh now. He is closer than before, the distance between our faces are now six inches. His smile is gone, his eyebrows are knotted and lowered, and his eyes are brimming with... What was that? Was that really... concern? Worry?

Who the hell was this boy? Why was he behaving like this?

My muscles are tense with Yoh touching me. He is physically closer to me than anyone ever has been without angering me. My mind swerves with confusion, distracting me from slapping him.

This unfamiliar feeling... That's it. It is _unfamiliar_.

It has a chance of hurting me.

I did not want to be hurt anymore...

I slap Yoh's hand away.

"Do not touch me," I mutter.

Yoh smiles. "You talked, but not of the words I wanted to hear," he says with a glint of humor in his eyes. "Do you want to me to stay here, Anna-san?"

I pause for a minute.

Should I say something?

A few more minutes pass.

"Yes, Yoh." The words were the first I have said that were not trying to show scorn, anger, sadness, or any other negative emotion in a long, long time. I just barely choke them out of my mouth.

Yoh smiles, and walks over to the bed. I remain at the door and watch him as he sits down. He looks up, smile directed exclusively at me, and pats the seat beside him, coaxing me to sit. I stare at the spot, but I do not move.

Yoh laughs a little, stands up, and walks back to me. He doesn't walk close, just an arm's length away, and takes my wrist. I feel a little startled. However, and I do not show it. I forget that I had slapped him earlier for touching me and allow him to drag me to the futon, to pull me down and sit.

Damn. I can see myself in the mirror.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Yoh says, "Anna-san, why are you glaring at your reflection like that?"

I do not respond.

A brief silence floats around us.

"You know, Anna-san, you are actually very pretty to me."

I immediately look at him, eyes wide with shock, too surprised to hide my emotions.

"I look despicable," I argue.

Yoh laughs. "No, you don't." He shifts his position so that he is sitting behind me. I can see him in the mirror, too. He takes a handful of my farm straw hair and runs his fingers through it, then pulls some of it back and out of my face. A few stray strands lay loose in my eyes. I almost shiver at his touch. Then I wonder why I am not killing him for it. "See? You have lovely gold hair like honey. It curves into a pretty wavy shape around the ends, and it feels soft and wonderful. Your skin is a smooth and pale ivory color, something a lot of girls would poison themselves to have. Your eyes are beautiful, Anna-san. They shine with intense emotion in a pretty milk chocolate color, and they are lined with long eyelashes. All you need is a smile to grace your lovely pink lips, and you will look even more beautiful."

Fuck. My ashen cheeks turn a little pink in the mirror.

However, this fact was pushed to the side by another thought. I simply could not believe it. Somebody viewed me as _beautiful._ It didn't matter if it was a lie; it filled me with sudden confidence. I saw all these things already, but in a negative view. He described in a different aspect. How could the same thing sound so different? The way he fused each piece of my face with details and meaning showed a new light, showed that they- pieces of me- were magnificent.

"Liar," I mumble halfheartedly.

Yoh smiles bigger. "No, I'm not." He rests his chin on top of my head, still holding my hair. "You're beautiful, Anna-san."

_You're beautiful, Anna-san._

"You've also got a slim figure a lot of girls would die for." Then his smile shrinks a bit. "It seems too thin, Anna-san. Abnormal. Have you been getting enough to eat?"

I pause, considering whether or not I should answer.

"At school, I live on welfare. For lunch I always have a sandwich and a small carton of milk. It's the biggest meal of my day." I leave a gap of silence. "At home I don't eat breakfast. My parents don't care to feed me. They eat all the good food for themselves, and I can only steal it very rarely. Otherwise, my dinner is a stale, thin piece of bread... Occasionally."

Yoh's eyebrows lower with concern and pout.

"Then you're going to eat a lot tonight, Anna-san. No food means no nutrition, and no nutrition means a weak and frail body. We can't have that." Yoh smiles again. "I'll provide you with all the food you'll ever need, okay, Anna-san?"

I close my eyes and absorb his soft touch, concern and care, nodding ever so slightly. I wish he would never let go.

**A/N:** Gak. Gak. Gak.

Sincerest apologies to all my lovely reviewers for the delayed update. The thing is... my internet died. It is pure torture, I tell you. I can only steal some time off my dad's internet, which he shuts of regularly because he would rather I do math. Mrah.

Anyway, that's enough with the excuses. &, I do love all your reviews, they really make my day :). I've responded to each and every signed one, I think.

Suggestions? Criticsm? Compliments?

Express it all !today, using a review button at a computer near you!

By the way, in Chapter 4, there are the slightest, slightest hints of RenxPirika, LysergxJeanne, and HorohoroxTamao... If you count them sitting next to each other :D. Hee. If anyone wants me to strengthen any of these pairings, tell me in your reviews pls. &I'll try to put the pairings in... somewhere.

By the way, I'm looking for another beta-reader, because I make typos. Anyone?


End file.
